My love, my sorrow

Like the setting sun I came across a saint

Sitting beneath the tree encountered by the disciples;

Bowing down their heads on the grounds

Tears are rolling down from their reddened cheeks.

He said,' I asked the lord to take me aftermath'

In the hereinafter to fight against lies and prejudice.

The answer came to my ear whispering

You are lazy and deaf that you are not complying.

The saint then uttered that there is no way without

Meditation and supplication to the alter upon God.

A man dies and another one gives birth to;

To beautify and enlighten the earth with justice.

And to remove the distortions and wreckage

The life like the mirror as if a shadow covers it

All the time all day and night in the dark dreams.

Truth is the source of divined justice as framed

By the eternal subdued for beaming rays

In the hidden herbs, meadows and the color

Inside the river beds where humans cannot dwell.

As the cluster declared by the lead which is pure

Not adulterated like the gold as if ornamented

In the race of livelihood for being perfection of truth.

Like the sweet voice in the wake of ocean water

Mixed with salty foam is never suitable to drink.

Man may lie on the grassy land  naturally washed

As if cleaned up like early woke bathing of the sun.